After the Wars
by Baliansword
Summary: Legolas was taken prisoner, and a year after the destruction of the Ring, Aragorn rescues him. But how can you save someone who is already lost? AL slash in Ch5.
1. The Beginning

Title: "After the Wars"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 1, "The Beginning"

Summary: This is definitely something different. Legolas was taken prisoner during the War of the Ring. A year after he has been taken prisoner Aragorn comes to his rescue. The only question is, how can you save someone that has been lost to the world for so long?

A/N: None of the characters are mine. This never happened. There is slash, so if you need to, stop reading now. Otherwise I enjoy all reviews and thank you for reading.

A sliver blade pressed against his throat. His hands were in the dirt, his face covered in a mixture of blood, dirt, and mud. If he were to look in a mirror now not even he would recognize himself. His breathing was heavy, uneven, and his lungs and ribs ached. But everything seemed to stop as the blade cooled the skin of his neck.

In a sudden movement he lunged his body forward. The blade left a slight cut on the base of his neck. It did not matter though, for he was free once more. He stood the best he could and staggered back until his back hit a wall. Again his attacker came at him. This time he grabbed the knife and in breaking the attacker's hand turned it upon the orc and drove it into his forehead. The muddy orc fell back, hitting the ground, dead instantly.

He tipped his head back, letting the cool rain hit his face. The blood and mud began to wash away, but to him it never left. He could always feel the liquid on his cheeks, the mud stuck to his body, the dirt in his eyes. It continued to rain and he continued to drink. For all he knew it would be the last water he would have in days.

There were roars of disappointment from the crowd that had gathered. It would not be long before again he would have to fight for his life. The elf let his head drop. He stared at the orcs, despising each of them, and then coughed. He put the back of his hand to his mouth. There was blood here. For weeks he had been coughing as such, yet he had begun to ignore it, for there was nothing that could cure him now.

Legolas was quickly pushed back into an iron cage. It did not matter, he was safer here. He was locked once more in darkness. Slowly his eyes closed, his fingers not releasing the knife in his hand, and he tried to sleep. Yet sleep would not come, and if it did, he would quickly wish that it had not.

Aragorn mounted the horse and looked back at the men that followed. They had been looking for the orcs that had survived the destruction of the ring for some time. Now, thanks to a few brave scouts, they had found them. Aragorn had always wanted to go after the orcs. Yet, when he heard they had captives, he knew that the time must be now.

They rode out and covered much ground. Yet it took the entirety of three days before they reached the camp of the orcs. Aragorn motioned for his men to stop. They had tied the horses further back. Now, they were on the ground, where they were most vulnerable.

Aragorn watched the smoke billow from a fire. It was not the smoke of wood, he knew. It was the smoke of a burning body. One of his men motioned a group to move forward. Aragorn drew his sword. The time was now.

Aragorn helped push the rock away from the cave. He lit a torch and was the first to enter the cave. The cave went deep into the earth. Aragorn at first wondered what could be kept hidden here. Yet when he reached the bottom of the pit he knew. There were cages of elves, men, and even a few hobbits stacked upon one another. The sight was enough to make Aragorn's heart stop beating.

"Get them out," Aragorn ordered of his men. He himself carried his torch to a corner. Before he had reached it men were already calling out that those in the cages were already dead. "Keep looking."

Aragorn heard something just then. It was the sound of a piece of metal hitting the stone floor of the cave. He turned and another part of the room was illuminated in the light. Aragorn thought that his heart had already been stopped, but when he saw the cage in the farthest corner of the room, he knew that his pain had only just begun.

He rushed forward and fell down to his knees. He quickly unbolted the cage and pulled the door open. Aragorn reached into the cage and wrapped his arms around the elf. He pulled him out carefully and held him in his arms.

"Legolas," the king whispered as he put a hand on the placid forehead of the elf. It was an amazement that he had even recognized him. His blond hair was stained a muddy brown and blood red, his face too thin, his body was too thin, his lips parched, his breathing shallow. There were scars on his hands, one on his neck, another on his lip, and one on his brow. Aragorn held him close, not even wanting to know where other scars could be found on his body.

Legolas said nothing as Aragorn held him. His eyes refused to open. Everything about him reeked of death, yet still he held on. In his dreams he thought for a moment he heard Aragorn's voice. Yet it was soon flooded over by the battle screams of the orcs and the screams of those that had already been killed.

Aragorn carefully lifted Legolas from the horse. Not once had he awoken in the last three days. Aragorn tried to think of other things but knew that Legolas was fading. He carried him quickly into the palace, running past even Arwen, and took him to his own chambers. He lay him down and called for physicians immediately. The worst was on its way.

A/N: This chapter is designed just so that you will become aware of what it going on. The second chapter will pick up, I promise. Please review if you have time.

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	2. Legolas Awakens

Title: "After the Wars"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 2, Legolas Awakens

Aragorn entered the room quietly. He sat down in the chair next to the bed and ran a hand through his shoulder length brown hair. In front of him lay Legolas, who did not sleep soundly. He tossed and turned every few minutes. Because of this Aragorn did not wish to leave him alone. He worried too much for him.

For some time now he had thought him dead. All in fact thought that the prince of Mirkwood had been killed at Helms Deep. Yet it was clear now that he was alive. Aragorn sat back, staring at his sleeping friend, and sighed. He had hoped that by now he would have awoken, yet he still did not. The physicians had all said the same thing –that he likely would not.

His body had been broken, that was what they all said. One of his lungs had failed and no longer worked. His heart was not pumping enough blood. Not to mention that he had not seen the light of the sun in at least a year, which made him even sicker. The physicians worried that seeing the sun could harm his eyes. For this reason Aragorn kept the balcony draped over with sheets, and hanging from the bedposts was thick black satin.

Aragorn sat there for hours before Legolas moved again. His lips parted and he cried out in his sleep. Aragorn sat forward immediately. He did not scream as he normally did, but he said a name. He had said it clearly, calling for an answer. _Aragorn. _

"Legolas," Aragorn said as he took his hand in his own. "I am here. I have not left. Wake, you are safe now."

Aragorn put his other hand on Legolas' cheek. The elf turned his head in the direction of the human's flesh. He coughed quietly, then was resting peacefully. Aragorn did not move his hand. This was the calmest Legolas had been in ages. Instead he watched him sleep intently.

Even though he looked not as he once did he was still beautiful. His high cheekbones and fair complexion made him seem fragile. Yet he was far from that. His pointed ears were covered now by his hair. Aragorn smiled softly, the elf had always taken pride in his golden locks, and even now it was still the least touched part of his body.

Dark emotions swept over Aragorn just then. He remembered the battle of Helms Deep. He had gone to Haldir, had looked down at him for just a moment. Then, when he stood, he was again being attacked. The retreat was called, but he was far away. At first it seemed as if too many orcs surrounded him. Yet then there had been Legolas.

The elf had turned and come back. He fought hard until they were both able to get to the gates. Yet as they raced across the bridge a fallen orc had reached out. Aragorn turned just as Legolas fell. The doors shut just as the elf looked up. The thought of it brought tears to his eyes.

"Open the gate," he had screamed. No one listened. He pounded on the door to no avail. The gates were shut. They had to protect the rest. So that is what Aragorn had done. He protected those that he could. When the gate was opened he had hoped to see Legolas, yet had not.

For some time he told himself that Legolas was fine. He believed that the elf had gone a different way and would meet again with them soon. Yet that day of meeting never came. Instead, he never returned.

Aragorn looked up as Legolas stirred in his sleep. The elf's eyes opened and immediately he pushed away from Aragorn. Scared from his sleep, and scarred from memories, he fell off of the bed across from Aragorn. He hit the floor and quickly pushed himself back into a standing position. He reached out quickly and grabbed a candelabrum.

Aragorn had stood and come around the bed. Now he stopped and put both hands up. Words did not leave his mouth. At first he just stared at what Legolas had become. His breathing was heavy, his lungs working hard. His eyes were almost hollow, the life beaten out of them, and Aragorn knew then what he had become. He was a fighter. He was only let out of that cage when he was to fight for his life.

"It is only me," Aragorn said quietly. "It is Aragorn."

Legolas held the candelabrum firmly in his grasp all the same. He took a step back so that he back touched a wall. It kept him from falling over. After a moment of staring at Aragorn he let the candelabrum fall from his hand. It hit the floor with a loud clang. Aragorn watched Legolas, he didn't even blink at the sound. To his elven ears it should have been painful.

"Legolas," Aragorn said soothingly as he stepped forward. "You are safe now, they are gone."

Legolas began to slide to the ground. His back was still pressed against the wall. Aragorn made a motion to move forward but the elf held up a hand. Aragorn stopped and watched as he slid to the floor. Legolas then pulled his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around his legs. Placing his chin on his knees he glanced up through his lashes at the ranger.

"Keep away," the elf said in a dark manner.

Aragorn took a step back to calm the man that had once been his friend. He realized now that he was not as he had been. He watched Legolas let out a deep breath. He then closed his eyes and put his forehead to his knees. Once again he began to sleep. Aragorn frowned, for this was the way that he had found him.

"How is he," Arwen asked as she entered the room quietly. Aragorn pointed to the corner where Legolas slept. Arwen stared at him for a moment then sat down on Aragorn's lap. "You can sense the darkness that surrounds him all throughout the palace."

"You should have seen where we found him," Aragorn whispered. "He was the only one Arwen, the only one."

"But you saved him," Arwen replied.

"No. We haven't even begun to."


	3. The Scars of War

Title: "After the Wars"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 3, "The Scars of War"

The screams he could hear in his head were enough to awaken him. His cerulean eyes opened and he quickly scanned the room. He immediately reached out for a weapon but did not have one when he saw the ranger. He swallowed and pushed his back against the wall as Aragorn stood.

He recognized him but could not help but fear him at the same time. He trusted no one now. The only thing that his brain would tell him was to defend, then attack. As Aragorn came closer Legolas felt his hands clench. With nothing in them he knew that only a furry of punches would protect him.

Aragorn knelt down in front of him. He was far enough away that Legolas did not lash out. Yet if he moved Legolas knew that he would probably kick him as a reaction –even if he may not want to. All he knew now was how to fight. The ranger sat before him and stared at him. Legolas met his dark eyes with his own and stopped moving. He recognized him.

_It is Aragorn, _his mind told him. _He will not hurt you. He is your friend. He will not hurt you. _He wanted badly to believe what his mind told him. Instead he pushed his back even closer to the wall.

"Legolas," Aragorn whispered as he leaned closer to the elf. He reached out with a hand and Legolas slapped it away as quickly as a cat. The elf had lunged forward and was back in place before Aragorn could blink. Aragorn watched Legolas for a moment before he reached out again.

Again Legolas lunged forward and this time punched him in the side of the face instead of shoving his arm away. Instead of giving him time to sit back again Aragorn got closer. Aragorn grabbed one of Legolas' arms as he tried to hit him. Because of his position against the wall Aragorn had the upper hand, because he could move, whereas Legolas had to remain where he was.

When he grabbed the other arm Legolas tried to pull away. When he was unable to he kneed Aragorn in the gut. Aragorn let out a breath of air. Legolas kicked him again and tried to stand. Aragorn pulled him down before he could stand. The elf still struggled even though Aragorn tried to calm him.

"Legolas,'' he called out. He still held both of the elf's wrists. The elf pushed his back against the wall and tried to kick Aragorn once more. When he was unable to he resulted to using his head. He head butted Aragorn hard enough to make the king feel slightly dizzy. Yet the blow forced more injury upon Legolas than it did the ranger.

When pulling his head back he hit the base of his skull against the wall. He cried out and began to sink back against the wall. This gave Aragorn a chance to lean closer. He forced his arms around Legolas. Even though the elf hit him hard with his fists on the back he held on.

"Legolas," he said into the elf's ear, "I am not going to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe, I won't hurt you."

He must have repeated it five times before Legolas let his hands fall to the floor. His breath came out in hard gasps of breath. Aragorn let a little space come between them. As he reached for Legolas' neck, the elf wrapped a hand around his wrist, just to let him know that he would not be afraid to fight him. Aragorn silently put a finger on a vein in Legolas' neck and lightly pressed down upon it to check his heart rate.

"What have they done to you," Aragorn whispered as he stared into Legolas' cerulean orbs. Legolas breathed deeply in and closed his eyes for a moment. His head spun from the hit to the back of his head. It was truly self inflicted but he had only been trying to protect himself like he had being doing since he had been captured.

"Don't let them take me back," Legolas whispered. His eyes then closed and his head tilted back. Aragorn picked him up in his arms and brought him back to the bed. The first thing he knew that he must do was to get him something to drink, and to eat, for he could feel his ribs through his clothes.

Legolas lay with his head tilted back. Aragorn noted that this position eased the elf's lungs. It was easier for him to breathe this way so Aragorn did not try to move him. Instead he got up and went to get some water. He came back, with a pitcher and a cup, and sat down next to the bed.

Legolas heard him enter and had already turned his head. His eyes opened halfway before he closed them once more. Aragorn filled the cup with water and then picked up Legolas' hand. He put Legolas' hand under his so that he too may steady the cup. The then pressed the cup against Legolas' lips.

"Drink," Aragorn said quietly. Legolas moved his head away at first but Aragorn steadied his head with a hand so that he could not move. "You must drink my friend."

Legolas managed to swallow a mouthful of water. He tried to drink more but ended up coughing. Aragorn took the cup away. He then took Legolas' hand in his own. He badly wanted him to recover, but he knew what the physicians had said, and now that he saw him he believed them.

"Stop watching me," the elf whispered suddenly. "I can hear everything when I sleep. Even your breathing keeps me from awakening."

"I thought you were dead," Aragorn admitted. "I should never have let the gates shut, never, without you. For the longest time I believed you were well. But then, one day, it was as if everyone knew. Legolas, can you ever forgive me?"

Legolas let his eyes open even though it sent pain throughout his body. He stared at the face of the ranger. He looked at the stubble around his face, his dark eyes, and his soft lips. He also had the highest cheekbones of any mortal Legolas could remember seeing. The elf nodded softly and began to close his eyes.

"When was the last time you slept," Aragorn asked. "Or is the pain too intense for you to stay awake?"

"I never sleep," the elf replied with a whisper. "The pain never stops."

"I have medicine," Aragorn told him. Legolas did not reply. He let his eyes close and his world fade away to blackness. Aragorn stayed by his side for hours before Legolas opened his eyes again. When the elf opened his eyes he pulled quickly away as he had done before. This time he stopped before he fell from the bed. He stared at Aragorn for a moment.

"You are the one that needs to sleep," Legolas told him as he let his eyes open. Pain was sent through his entire body. He moved his head and the pain was enough to make him feel like vomiting. Since there was no food in his stomach it would be rather pointless though.

The elf then looked down at his body. He touched his tattered vest. He then reached up to his throat. In the instant that he touched the most recent of his cuts it began to bleed. Legolas withdrew his fingers, his hand shaking, and looked at the blood.

"I will get you some clean clothing," Aragorn said. Legolas only nodded and Aragorn went to the dresser. He pulled out a pair of dark brown leather pants and a white shirt. The king then returned and sat down next to Legolas. "Promise not to hit me."

Legolas nodded. The ranger then reached out and touched the tattered bloodied rag that Legolas wore for a shirt. Aragorn then pulled the sheet away from Legolas' body. He stood, deciding that Legolas would want to bathe first, and put out a hand which the elf took without hesitation.

Aragorn helped him into the room. As he filled the tub with water from a nearby pond Legolas looked in the mirror. He touched his cheek, staring at what he had become. He had never been vain, but this was enough to make him feel like dying would be the best thing for him.

"Come," Aragorn said when he saw the horror in Legolas' eyes. "It is not as bad as you think. Most of it will wash away."

If only he had known. Legolas came closer. He was still so weak that he had to keep a hand on the wall so that he did not fall down. Aragorn carefully united the few pieces of fabric that held the elf's shirt together. He then let it fall to the floor. Burning it would not be a bad idea. Then he looked down.

The horror was now in his eyes. Scars covered Legolas' entire chest. The ranger could not help but reach out and touch the scar that ran from the top of his ribcage to the bottom diagonally across his chest. The cut had been deep and had created a fleshy scar larger than all of the rest. The cut had needed stitches. The ranger could tell this by looking at the way the scar had healed. There had also been an infection.

"I had a fever," Legolas said as if he were reading his thoughts. "For days I thought that I would die. I think they did too. They had me fight orc after orc in those days."

"Fevers drive men mad," Aragorn said to himself. He continued to touch the scars on Legolas' chest. He then touched a scar that he followed from the middle of his lower torso to halfway across his back. Legolas had bruises on his back and Aragorn lightly touched one. The elf drew in a pained breath.

"Forgive me," Aragorn whispered. He looked at one bruise. It was the size of a plate. It was also the deepest purple Aragorn had ever seen on a living being. Around the edges it was green. It reminded his of a rotten plum. The ranger went back to Legolas' chest.

"It's just a body," Legolas said quietly. "Nothing more."

"It is not your body that I worry about," the ranger admitted. Legolas did not reply. Instead he glanced at the cool water and then at Aragorn. "I will be just outside. Call me if you need anything."

Legolas nodded. As soon as Aragorn had left the room he stripped from the rest of his clothing and climbed into the tub. He let the water soothe his aches. He leaned his neck against the ledge of the tub and slowly closed his eyes. Every noise in the room he could hear, yet he wanted to hear nothing. He remembered the blows that would cause him to black out, and remembered them fondly, because there would be nothing. It would all go silent and black.

Aragorn had changed the sheets of the bed. It had taken him some time. He went to the door of the bathing room and knocked softly. There was no response from within so Aragorn knocked again, only this time louder. When Legolas did not respond he opened the door.

He rushed into the room and quickly grabbed Legolas' shoulders. He pulled his head from the water and brushed the wet blond hair away from his face. Before he could register mouth to mouth Legolas' lips parted.

"Let me go," he said as his head fell back. "It's too loud and too bright. Just let me go Aragorn, and all will be fine. It's too late, I am already gone."

xii


	4. Purify

Title: "After the Wars"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 4, "Purify"

"Legolas," Aragorn sighed as he held the elf in his arms. He pulled him close as he uttered these words. He pressed his warm lips then against Legolas' forehead, kissing his brow lightly, and inadvertently forcing the elf's eyes to open. "Forgive me for leaving you, and forgive me for my selfishness, but I cannot let you go so easily."

His eyes barely open the elf let out a slow breath of air, "What is in your head King of Men? Do you think that you can save those that do not wish to be saved?"

"What keeps you in the darkness, prince of Mirkwood," the king asked. For the first time he was aware of how close Legolas was to him. He realized that the elf's smooth bare skin was pressed against his, and for the first time, he realized that he perhaps desired this touch more than he did the touches Arwen affectioned him with.

It was perhaps those light cerulean eyes, framed by high cheekbones, and his long golden locks that drove him wild. Even when they had been together before, fighting side by side, Aragorn had felt something for him. At first he had thought it the bond of the Fellowship. Yet now he knew that it was not just that alone, it was something more, something far different than just a simple love between men. For a man to love a man for what he stood for, for his ideals, now this was not frowned upon. For a man to desire another man in the way of lust, that was frowned upon, but this was how Aragorn felt for Legolas now.

Aragorn desired to know what they had done to Legolas, just so that he could go back to killing them all in his mind, making each one suffer in the way that Legolas did now. Such a pure soul had not been corrupted in the entirety of their journey. Yet, a year in isolation as nothing but a battle slave, this had caused his hope to fail. Aragorn looked at him now.

His eyes were the same, the same cerulean, with the same elven beauty that only his breed could possess. Moreover there was a feeling that used to be behind those eyes that was now gone. He did not hold the same child like curiosity, or the elven maturity, or anything else that he had once held in those orbs. Now he seemed just to have eyes, which stared out at the world, but truly took nothing in. All he needed to know was that no one was to be trusted.

What would keep him in the darkness? That was the question that now plagued at Aragorn's mind. Legolas had been saved from the world of darkness that he had been in. He had been brought back! He was now surrounded with love, which he must be able to feel, so why did he feel alone when Aragorn was pressed so close against him?

"It changes," Legolas said, still allowing himself to be held. He would not say it aloud, but it comforted him, to be so close to someone. It could have been anyone holding him, but it was not, it was Aragorn. Aragorn, the only man that he could ever love, and the only person in the world that he still wished he could love. If only he knew, he would not hold him so close.

"What changes?"

Legolas stared at him for a moment. He tried to see what it was that captivated him about this man. It was not his looks, even though he was for a man gorgeous, it was something far different. It was not even his eyes, which held the secrets of his life. It was his warmth. It was the way that he held him close, the way that he walked into a room, the way that he could smile without doing so, the way he could make a sad man feel better with a look –it was his warmth, the essence of his body that surrounded him, his aura.

"It all does," He replied after swallowing, his throat seeming to be getting dryer and dryer by the moment. "I used to think that things would never change. I was a fool Aragorn, we all were. There is no good, there is only evil, and an occasional lack of evil conquering the hearts of all."

"No," Aragorn disagreed in a whisper. "There is good in this world Legolas, you of all should know this, with your purity."

"I am no longer pure," the elf disagreed. "I saw myself one day, while I sat in the dark, I saw my spirit leave my body. What was once Legolas sailed away to the Undying Lands, and what is left is this, what you hold now. I am nothing to anyone now, and saving me is impossible, and not worth your efforts."

Aragorn put a hand on Legolas' cheek. Deep in the back of his mind he knew that to touch him so would only lead to more touching, to more feelings, and eventually to what was forbidden between them. He did not care though. He only wanted to comfort Legolas in his time of need. He ran his hand over his smooth features before he leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips. Their lips met, but only briefly before Aragorn pulled back, only enough for Legolas to feel his lips.

"If you are a shell," he whispered to the prince of Mirkwood, "how is it that you are able to feel? Do you feel, Legolas?"

"I felt that," the prince said under his breath. "It is the first touch that I have felt since they took me."

Aragorn leaned forward and kissed him again. This time he kissed him fully. He let his lips press hard against the elf's. He let his tongue split Legolas' lips so that he may taste him. If it was wrong it should not have been because it felt only right as he held Legolas in his arms. When the kiss broke, due to the fact that his passions had caused him to be unable to breathe, Aragorn placed his forehead against Legolas'.

"Legolas," Aragorn whispered, "come to bed with me."

"I can't," Legolas responded, his breathing still rapid, taking a great toll on his broken lungs. He reached up, putting both hands on the sides of Aragorn's neck, wrapping his fingers in his hair. "I do not know how to love. I cannot seem to leave that place Aragorn. I cannot love you, not in the way you deserve to be loved, not in the way that you should be loved."

"I will not be far from you again," Aragorn replied. "Legolas, what is it that you fear now that you did not when we were in the Fellowship?"

Legolas could not even answer himself. At least not now, because the truth was buried under scars. He looked down, holding back what very well could have been tears, and did not look up again. Before he could answer Aragorn lifted the two of them off of the floor, Legolas in his arms, and went back to the bedchamber. The sheets were already drawn back and Aragorn had but to put Legolas beneath them.

"Promise me that you will sleep through the night," Aragorn asked of him as he pulled the sheets back over him. "I will go only if you make me such a promise, Legolas."

"Pledges mean nothing among men Aragorn, they never have, and never will. They are only hollow words meant to be used as a weapon against the one that said them. Yet air cannot hurt a man, can it?"

"You," Aragorn said, "are not just a man. You are Legolas, the prince of Mirkwood, and a member of the Fellowship of the Ring. Yet, above all of this, you are simply Legolas."

The king placed a soft kiss on the elf's forehead before he stood. He then turned and left the room. As soon as the door shut Legolas once again felt that he was in the dark. Besides this, he felt that the warmth that he had felt moments ago, was gone. He could only hope that Aragorn would come back, and hope, he had learned, was only a waste of time.

xvi


	5. Nightmares

Title: After the Wars

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 5, "Nightmares"

He rolled over in the middle of the night and let his eyes open. He stared at the shadows around him, the candle on the table having burnt out. The shadows reminded him of that place. Suddenly he sat up, pulling the sheets around him, and held his knees. Sleep would not come so easily to him. Closing his eyes and placing his chin on his carefully positioned knees he began to say what he had been saying over and over again for the past year.

"I am Legolas,'' he whispered," prince of Mirkwood. I am a member of the Fellowship. I am not alone, my friends will come for me soon, and they cannot hurt me. They cannot hurt me. I will not allow it. I will not falter."

Opening his eyes again he looked at the shadows that surrounded him. He pushed the sheets away from his body and crawled out of the bed. It was easy to find his way to the door. Light from the torches in the hallway illuminated the crack at the bottom of the door. The elf opened the door and shut it behind him, taking in a deep breath as he did so.

He looked to the left, and to the right. No one would be up at this hour, or in this wing of the palace at least. Legolas, wearing only the thin shirt and pants Aragorn had given him, felt rather cold in the grand hall. He knew that it was no colder than where he had once been, in fact it was rather warm for the night.

Legolas began down the hall, not sure whether or not he should be out of his room. If anyone found him wandering, what would they do to him? Were the men here all like Aragorn or were they the evil creatures that he had always been warned of? While he was thinking a hand was placed on his shoulder.

Startled, he spun on his heels. Before looking to see even who it was he shoved the culprit down. His fists still balled he looked down at the turned head. Covered in a robe Legolas could not recognize his attacker. As soon as he turned his head, he recognized him well. It was Aragorn.

"Forgive me," Legolas said as he quickly reached down and took Aragorn's arm to help him up. "I did not know that it was you."

"I told you," Aragorn replied once he was on his feet. "You are safe here. No harm will come to you. But I must ask, where were you going?"

Legolas' blue eyes dropped to the floor. He then looked up, through his lashes, and beheld the pure look of innocence. Shrugging, he responded with the best answer he could give.

"I could not sleep." With a softer voice he added, "I was looking for you."

Aragorn put a hand on Legolas' forearm. At first Legolas wanted to pull away from habit of being touched by those that did not deserve to feel his flesh beneath their fingers. However, he stopped before he did so. It was not one of them, it was Aragorn, and if Aragorn would be the last person to touch him that would be fine.

Together they walked down the hall. When Aragorn came to the doors he wanted they turned, and entered a room. Legolas knew that it belonged to no one. He could tell by the smell of the air as they stepped over the threshold. The doors had not been opened in some time. Stopping, Aragorn lit a torch on the wall, illuminating the room.

Legolas looked around the room. The walls were painted in vivid color, with images of the woods. Instantly the woods reminded him of those in Mirkwood. Legolas stepped closer to the wall closest to him. Reaching out, he put a hand on the wall, touching a doe. He then turned his head to the left. The grand bed's posts were made of curving wood and the lightwood on the base was carved with elvish writing. Taffeta cloth hung from the tops of the posts, veiling the white sheets and pillows on the bed.

Everything in the room was made with the same natural wood. It had not been fired, textured, or painted. It was the same simple light crème color wood throughout. It was elvish wood from the forests deep within Mirkwood. Legolas could only blink. The room around him was wonderful.

"It was for you," Aragorn said quietly. "I figured that when the Fellowship was over and the Ring was destroyed we would still be in contact. For your visits I had this room decorated. I meant it to keep you comfortable."

"Its lovely," Legolas said as he turned away from the wall. "It reminds me of Mirkwood very much."

"You should sleep here, perhaps it will help ease your mind."

Aragorn said nothing more. Instead he began to leave the room. Once again Legolas felt warmth leaving the room. This time he could not let this happen. He stepped further away from the wall and as Aragorn began to walk past him he reached out and took his arm.

"Do not go," whispered Legolas.

No more words needed to be said between the two of them. Aragorn leaned forward and pressed his lips against Legolas'. He let his arms wrapped around the elf so that he may pull him close. Legolas kissed him back, wanting to feel the warmth he did when Aragorn was close, wanted to feel all of him. Aragorn's lips against his gave him the only feeling he had felt in the last year, it was as if he had never existed before, he had just began to feel now.

He felt the warmth of Aragorn's lips, and the warmth of his body pressed against his. He felt the new stubble on Aragorn's chin and the hands that held him tight. Leaning closer to him Legolas let one of his own hands lightly graze Aragorn's cheek. Not only did he want him, but he needed him now. He needed him more than anything he had ever needed in his life.

In a sudden passion Aragorn thrust himself forward so that he could grind his hardening erection against Legolas. A deep moan growled in the back of his throat. With his teeth he lightly nipped at Legolas' lower lip, driving them both all the more mad. Tilting his head back, Legolas let Aragorn take complete control of their current situation. It took all of his courage to trust someone other than himself, and even now, he still feared that he was unprotected.

Yet in Aragorn's strong arms this was not true. Aragorn was protecting him now and would let nothing happen to him. While kissing him, Aragorn let a hand slide to Legolas' waist. He pushed his hand upward, lightly touching the skin, and lifting Legolas' shirt. His scarred chest was in moments visible, and even though it looked like one should quickly look away, Aragorn knew that it was beautiful. It was just another part of his Legolas.

Legolas let the shirt fall to the floor and stood trembling as Aragorn took his lips from his mouth and brought them to his chest. Each time he licked at a scar Legolas had to draw in a breath. It caused his lungs to ache but the aching pain was shadowed with pleasure. Aragorn lightly scraped his teeth against Legolas' nipple and in doing so caused the elf to let out a loud gasp.

Rising back to his lips Aragorn ran his hands all over Legolas' bare skin. He then began to slowly push the both of them to the bed. When they reached the edge of the bed Aragorn lightly pushed the elf back so that he may press his back against the flocculent sheets. Legolas let his knees bend and drew them up so that Aragorn may comfortably position his lower torso between Legolas' thighs. As he did this Aragorn pulled away Legolas' trousers.

The king had already let his robe fall to the floor. His bare chest was hard and muscled, gleaming with sweat already. Legolas stared at the planes of Aragorn, thinking of how picturesque he looked above him. The thought of his smoother skin touching that of Aragorn's tighter and rougher skin made shivers run down his spine. Yet the heat radiating between the two of them was really what Legolas was longing for. He wanted to once again feel like he was living, and that he was not just a shell of his former self.

Aragorn kissed each and every scar on Legolas' chest. Each one whispered to him a story as he was kissing away the pain. He brought his lips to a scar that ran from just below Legolas' navel in a diagonal line, going straight down and continuing to cut through the softest flesh of the elf's body, almost cutting through the hardest part of his body now. Aragorn could only manage to wonder at what kind of a weapon had made this. It was duller than a sword, and had been far hotter; perhaps it had been a poker of some kind.

Legolas writhed gently under Aragorn just before he took him in his mouth. The elf let out a loud groan as Aragorn did this. As he tried to breathe in again he realized that his lungs were now burning. He did not know if it was because of the passion he was participating in, or if old wounds were coming back to haunt him. Either way he decided to ignore the pain, it was not that bad, and he wanted Aragorn too much to let something as simple as pain get in the way of things.

As Aragorn wrapped his lips around him Legolas reached down. He managed to put a hand in Aragorn's hair. The world was seemingly spinning. When he could hold back no more Legolas let himself go, crying out Aragorn's name as he did so. Instead of pulling away Aragorn let Legolas' nectar slide down his throat.

Legolas let his hand fall and tried to concentrate on his breathing. Moments later Aragorn brought his kisses back to Legolas' chest, and then his neck. The king lay down beside him and lightly traced a scar on the side of his arm. His eyes scanned the elf, and he tried not to panic, but was becoming concerned with Legolas' condition.

"Are you all right," Aragorn whispered the question.

"Yes," Legolas answered, his eyes closed, his breathing still sharp and uneven. "I have never been better in my life. I think I am far better than I have ever been."

And he was. For the rest of the night he slept in Aragorn's arms. While he slept Aragorn noticed that Legolas' breathing never stopped causing him pain. As the elf slept he put a hand on his chest. It was warm, too warm. He was beginning to fall back into the stages of fever.


	6. Longing and Pain

Title: "After the Wars"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 6, "Longing and Pain"

A/N: Thank you for your patience, to all of those of you reading and reviewing. Hope that you enjoy this new chapter. Please let me know how I'm doing!

The pastel light crept across the room. It lingered in areas, attacking the shadows, and revealing the two lovers beneath the sheets of the bed. The light softly circled Legolas' cheek, and then slowly rested upon him. Feeling the warmth of the sun's early morning rays the elf shifted. In doing so he awoke the man sleeping soundly next to him.

"Hn," Aragorn said as he lifted his head off of the pillow. Upon seeing no intruders he let his head fall back. Then, he stared silently at Legolas. His beauty was breathtaking. There was nothing that could take away from him, nothing.

"Good morning," the elf whispered quietly. His chest still ached deeply. He began to wonder if he should be feeling so much pain. Yet Aragorn's face took away from this thought and he instead disregarded it.

"I trust that you slept well enough," Aragorn asked of him.

Legolas nodded, for he had slept well. In fact, he had slept more last night than he had in the last year. Perhaps it was the comfort of having Aragorn beside him. For was it not love that conquered all? It had to have been, because the only thing worth living and dying for would be, love.

"Aragorn," the elf asked absently, "what happened after the battle at Helm's Deep?"

"You mean what happened to the Ring?"

"I know that it was destroyed," he replied. "I could feel it suddenly in my bones. When Frodo cast it into the fire, I felt the warmth in my veins, and I suddenly knew. I knew that they would crown you as well. It was always what you deserved."

"Why do you ask now," the ruggish ranger asked. "Things were much as before. Frodo and Sam took the Ring to the Eye, and there they destroyed it. Meanwhile, men fought at Minas Tirith."

"The home of the White Tree?"

Aragorn nodded, "Yes."

Legolas did not say more. Instead he looked away and drew in a painful breath. It should not hurt, he thought to himself. The wounds were old yet the pain never seemed to cease. Instead, it only continued throughout time, over and over again causing him to bend at the knees gasping for airs. As he drew in another breath that remembered gasp came, sounding almost like a whistle deep in the back of his throat.

"Legolas," Aragorn said, sitting up and wrapping an arm around him. "How do you feel?"

No answer could be forced from him though. He coughed, holding his hand over his mouth. The convulsions rippled his muscles, and even though he should not think so, Aragorn thought it made him look very tantalizing. Legolas coughed once more before removing his hand from his lips. Covering his paled skin, was blood.

Aragorn paced back and forth outside of the room. He was not sure whether his presence in the room before him would help or not. Before he could enter the room the door opened. The elven physician he had required had finally arrived in the early morning, and had just finished looking at Legolas. Already his silken face looked grave. This could not be a good sign.

The king stepped closer despite the fact that fear was gripping his heart. Sighing, the medic glanced down at the floor for a long while. Then, looking up, his eyes gave it away before he shook his head. Aragorn knew what this meant.

"There is nothing that can be done," whispered the king of men. "How can there be nothing Syratelas?"

Syratelas let his lips part slowly before he answered. He knew that no matter what he said, it would not change the inevitable. Not to mention, lying to Aragorn would be unwise, for he was not daft. He would know a lie if it followed behind him, and decided to knock him down.

"It is in his lungs," the elven healer said softly. "His body has taken the worst beating I have ever seen. Judging by the scars, I would guess that he has had the condition for at least four months now. He has took the worst beating an elven body can."

"There is nothing?"

"Aragorn, it is his lungs. They fail him, and this explains his breathing. His lungs are filling with blood, from internal bleeding, which has long been continued. Even if I had the ability to try and fix the veins causing the bleeding, it would be too late, and such a surgery would likely kill him despite this. There is nothing you can do to heal him. But you still have time to make him comfortable, I have left you a mixture of herbs, and keep him content."

Aragorn did not know what to say. He felt the feeling of absolute fear gripping his heart just then. Legolas was…dying…and no matter how he tried, there was nothing that could be done to prevent it. After all this time, after saving him and loving him, he would still fade away. He was a candle that would be put out too soon, leaving Aragorn in only darkness.

"Get some rest," Syratelas advised the king. "Legolas will be asleep for a good while. I have made sure of it. There is nothing you can do for him if you are unable to keep your eyes opened."

"I feel as if I have only had them closed," the king replied as he continued down the hall with the elf, showing him a way out. As soon as he left, giving a faint smile, Aragorn shut the door. His forehead immediately rested against the door and he drew in a breath. In a faint whisper he said an elven prayer, hoping that it would ease his heart, but knowing deeply that it would not.

xxv


	7. Painless

Title: "After the Wars"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 7, "Painless"

A/N: Thanks for reading, and your continued support. Please read and review.

Aragorn entered the room quietly. The light colored veils over the bed hid Legolas from him. Perhaps it was for the better, at least for now, because his voice was stuck in the back of his throat. Silent, he came closer to the bed. Sitting down on a well-positioned chair, Aragorn let his eyes wander over Legolas, who was lying with his eyes closed. His breathing was faint, his lips slightly opened, and his hands positioned as if he were already perhaps dead.

Legolas drew in a sudden breath, louder than the rest, and opened his eyes. Swallowing, he turned to face Aragorn. His body relaxed, and he reached out with a hand. Aragorn took his hand and held it, desperately wishing his hands would be warmer. His cerulean eyes no longer held fear, but rather, let Aragorn see it as bright as day.

"How long," the elf asked quietly, knowing no other way to phrase the question. It was hard to ask. However, it was harder for Aragorn to try to answer. He dipped his head, letting a lock of hair fall in front of his face, and then glanced back up. Tears already were beginning to fill his eyes.

"You will be fine," Aragorn lied. "You just need rest, and some herbs, and everything will clear up."

"You were in the gardens," Legolas spoke in a whisper. "I can smell the nectar on your clothing. Aragorn, you never used to go in the gardens of any palace, none. When you brought me here, you did not smell of nectar. Why did you promenade through the gardens on this day Aragorn, if not but to let go?"

"I will not let go," Aragorn insisted. He held Legolas' hand tighter and leaned forward. He kissed Legolas' forehead, leaving his lips there for some time, and let a tear fall from the corner of his eye. "Rest for me Legolas, and get well, for without you I will be nothing."

Legolas let a smile cross his lips. It was not because his mood had changed. He still felt the same as before. It was not for him, but for Aragorn, who needed all the hope he could be given. He closed his eyes, and pretended to fall back to a state of sleep.

He did not sleep though. Instead, he concentrated on the world around him, and on his breathing. Beside him he could hear the tired breathing of the king of men. It was not hard to listen to this. Aragorn breathed so loud Legolas wondered how long it would take before he could stand listening to him no more. His own breathing was faint, and pressure fell on his left lung. There was liquid filling his lung, and for some reason, he felt as if he could feel his body bleeding internally. Yet he knew he could feel no such thing, just knew about it.

After a long while he stopped listening to what was going on around him. He knew that Aragorn, as hard as he had tried, had already fallen asleep beside him. As the world around him fell away he stopped listening to his own breathing. Instead he let his mind wander into blackness. As soon as darkness enveloped him he felt peace. Dying, he thought at that moment, would not be so bad.

What had he done in life, he began to wonder, that would be worth leaving behind. The truth was, nothing. He could not think of one thing that would be left in his legacy. This is what caused him to open his eyes. He turned to slowly look at Aragorn, who slept soundly in his chair, and then began to push himself up. He was in a sitting position when Aragorn suddenly awoke.

"What are you doing," Aragorn asked as he moved to help stable the weak prince. "You should not be moving so. It could injure you further."

Legolas smiled softly, "Aragorn, the sea calls for me. I know that my time is approaching. You need not lie to me. I am not afraid of death, but rather, of life I suppose."

"Don't speak so," the king pleaded. "Things will be fine. You just need to rest. Do not give up so easily, prince of Mirkwood, my love."

"Aragorn," Legolas asked. "When I pass on, will you remember me as I was…and will you be able to think of at least one thing that I have done in life that has made me worthy?"

Aragorn nodded, "Legolas, you have done so much. Do not worry about what will happen just yet though. Syratelas says that you will be fine, that you are strong, and will be back to yourself in a few days. By the end of the season you will be back to riding, and I will take you to the stable with me, and we will ride across my lands. You must see the woods with me, and there is a brook that meets a great tree with white bark, and it is so magnificent in all of its valor that only you will be able to appreciate it as it should be."

"A tree with white bark," Legolas said with a smile, "in your lands?"

"The only one Legolas," the king responded, glad to change the subject away from death. "It made me think of you when first I saw it. The brook sits at its side, and a stream forks around the tree, making a small isle. And then, once past the tree, the stream becomes one again. The tree is secluded, and only I have been there."

"You took not Arwen?"

Aragorn shook his head, "No. I found it while she was visiting her father, and all of Rivendell. I could not take her there. I knew, in my heart, that it was meant for only you. Because you are the one that I thought of when I took my walk there."

"Aragorn," Legolas said as he felt a pain grip his chest, "can I ask something of you?"

"Of course."

"I have long missed the taste of fruit juice. Would you mind going and getting me a glass?"

Aragorn nodded. He then got up and kissed Legolas on the forehead. After that he got up and left the room. Legolas knew that it would be the last time that he would see him. He could feel it in his veins. Silently, as the door shut, he let out a breath of pained air. A small cry escaped his lips as he clutched his chest. Then, it hurt no longer. He glanced at the light that filled the room, glad that he was not in shadows, and let his eyes slowly close.

Aragorn entered the room with a smile on his lips. He crossed the room, placing the drink down on the table, and then turned his eyes to see Legolas. He sat down, not wishing to disturb the sleeping prince. He sat back, glad that Legolas was sleeping, and crossed his arms. But realization hit him hard across the face.

"Legolas," Aragorn said as he leaned forward, grabbing Legolas' hand with his own. It was as cold as ice, colder than he had been before. Aragorn shook him lightly. "Legolas."

He let the tears begin to fall even as he put a hand on Legolas' neck. Knowing that he could now do nothing, he put his forehead on Legolas' chest. He gripped at his shirt, and screamed into his chest. The king lifted his head, and placed his lips on Legolas', putting hands on both sides of his face.

"Legolas," Aragorn whispered, "wake up."

It was a failed request though. For Legolas, the prince of Mirkwood, would never again open his eyes. The seas had called him home. His soul left him, letting only his body remain, and for the first time he was completely free of pain.

xxviii


	8. White Tree

Title: "After the Wars"

Author: Baliansword 

Chapter: 8, "White Tree"

A/N: This chapter is very metaphorical. The leaf, which you will read of, is not but just a leaf. It instead is something much deeper. For those that do not connect what the leaf means, please contact me, and I shall share. For the rest of you, thank you for reading. Please R and R! Baliansword

The wind lifted a small leaf off of the ground. It was a light color of green, showing its youth. The wind carried the leaf until it landed as gracefully as a swan on the azure stream water. The leaf floated above the water as the stream passed through the woods. The leaf was temporarily caught on a small river rock, but was quickly pushed on. It continued down the stream, until it was caught on a piece of white tree root. Here, even the leaf had to look over at the service going on.

Aragorn watched as the white draped body was lowered into the six-foot hole at the base of the white tree, taking up most of the small isle that had been formed here. It was as if just enough soil had been left here, for the body, and for the few men and elves that surrounded it. Perhaps the woods had known, as had nature, when this tree was created.

Aragorn knelt down and picked up a handful of freshly dug soil. He then dropped it on top of the white wrapped body. It was clear that he would have cried, had others not been around. As a gust of wind blew, the young leaf was pushed down the stream. It was a shame that he would not be able to see the rest of the ceremony. He would have liked to see Aragorn one last time, before he drifted to the end of the world.

xxix


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